


Lost and Found

by whelvenwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whelvenwings/pseuds/whelvenwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's been alternately excited and panicked about this day for months. But now it's finally arrived - and Dean and Cas have their newly-adopted baby girl at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

Dean was sitting on the sofa, his hands clasped behind his head. It had been an incredibly long day, and yet it had all gone by so fast – it had been a day of opposites like that, a rollercoaster of excitement and nerves and happiness and terror and wonderment and mundanity. It was as though today had been so special that not one single emotion had wanted to be left out; Dean had felt them all, every single one. And now he was sitting on the sofa, wrung out and dazed, basking in the quietness and the dim glow of the easy lamplight.

Dean couldn’t quite believe that the day was over. He’d been so nervous about it for so long – his stomach didn’t feel quite his own without the familiar weight of anxiety lying heavily over it. He’d spent weeks and weeks obsessing over every tiny detail of their preparations – which colours were best to decorate the baby’s room; which foods would be most healthy and nutritious; how many stories they should be reading to her every day; which toys would be most fun for her to play with. What his first words to her would be when he picked her up and held her for the first time. Which room he’d show her first when they got her home. What their first meal as a – as a _family_ would be.

And of course, beside him throughout had been Cas; Cas, in his soft-scratchy sweaters and scruffy stubble, always calm and outwardly relaxed. Cas had listened to all of his diatribes and doubts and deliberations with the same gently solemn expression, occasionally interposing a quiet, “we could always buy _both_ brands of diaper, Dean, and see which one works best”, or “perhaps we could add a little honey to her morning porridge, too”. It had been Cas who had soothed Dean’s terrible nerves, with quiet words and wordless touches. And it had been Cas who had talked Dean down from the stepladder in the baby’s room at three o’clock yesterday morning, when he’d been poised up there with a roller loaded with blue paint, ready to go over the mint green emulsion they’d originally chosen; he’d read an article that said blue was the most intellectually stimulating colour for young children.

And yet, after all that anxiety and stress and downright fear, the first day with their new baby girl had been… just that, just another day, only with one extra person in it. They’d fed her and changed her and soothed her when she cried at the strange new place with its strange new smells and sounds. They’d wiped her mouth clean and read her a story and jiggled her in her bouncy chair. They’d taken care of her, and it had been – simple. And terrifying. And amazing. And fun. And mundane. And perfect. Dean’s bones ached.

He experienced a sudden swimming sensation, half-dizzied by the magnitude of the change that today had brought. He couldn’t quite get his head around the fact that a baby girl, _Dean and Cas’_ baby girl, was asleep right now in the next room. Dean stood up, groaning a little as his muscles protested. He had to go check on her, make sure that everything was still in the right place. Sure, he’d subtly repositioned the baby monitor six times before softly closing the door behind him when he’d laid her down, but it was best to be on the safe side, right?

He cracked open the door and peered inside. Inside the cot, nothing moved – but when he went still, Dean could hear the little huff, huff of their baby’s breathing. He smiled and moved into the room, being careful not to tread on any of the jingly toys that they’d bought. Approaching the cot, he wrapped his hands over the bars and looked down at the baby girl sleeping soundly inside.

She was so small, Dean thought. Her hands were clenching and unclenching in her sleep, and she was wearing a little yellow night cap with a bee on it, in case she got cold – Cas had insisted. Dean’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at her: a tiny person, his and Cas’ responsibility. He watched her for a few moments, his chest so full, his throat thick.

“Tomorrow we’re going to read another story, baby girl,” he said softly. “And play some more. And then the day after that, your uncle Sammy’s going to come and see you. You’ll like him, I know you will. He’s going to be the best uncle in the whole world.” In her sleep, the baby in the cot made little popping noises with her mouth. Dean smiled down at her. “And then, once you’re settled here, we can start going out to places. You’re not going to be kept shut up, OK? We’re always gonna be going somewhere new and exciting, you and Cas and me. But don’t you worry, we’ll always come back here –” Dean’s throat closed up for a moment, and he cleared it before finishing, “we’ll always come home.”

The baby was frowning now, kicking a little in her sleep and waving tiny fisted hands. Dean felt a pang in his heart as he grinned.

“A fighter, huh? Atta girl.” He chewed his lip for a moment before going on, speaking to the sleeping baby in a carefully soft voice. “You had a pretty tough start, sweetheart. Some people don’t get it easy, and you were one of them. You were lost, baby girl. But that’s OK. See, I know a thing or two about what it’s like to be lost, too. But I also…” Dean cast a glance up at the photo of himself and Cas, hugging and beaming at the camera, tacked over the baby’s cot. “…I also know what it’s like to be found. And now we found you, baby girl. And we’re never going to let go. I promise.”

Dean heard soft, padding footsteps coming up behind him, and reached back a hand instinctively. He felt Cas’ fingers slide between his own, natural and familiar.

“You hear all that stuff?” Dean asked, without turning around. Cas leaned a little closer, and Dean shifted his body so that they were standing side-by-side next to the cot, each turned a little inward like two sides of a triangle.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said. Dean leaned his head down, resting it against Cas’. Together, they stared down at the baby in the cot as she sighed, and kicked a little, and then relaxed. Her breathing became regular, easy snuffles. Dean pressed his lips tight, to hold them steady.

“I love you,” Cas murmured, and Dean turned his head to place a soft, chaste kiss on Cas’ lips.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly, past the burr in his throat. He looked down at the cot, and squeezed Cas’ fingers between his own. “Both of you.”


End file.
